[CHAPTER TWO]
The great headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, let out a tired sigh and dropped the quill he had been scratching on hundreds of parchments for hours now.
How he wish he was still young and without the burden of abounding schedules. Maybe he would have had the time to start an arithmetic project to solve the weary issue of paperwork.
Well there's nothing he can do about it. He best just hurry up so he can catch even if it's four hours of sleep.
He sighed in resignation and was about to get back to work when his fireplace glowed brighter than before and a face appeared within it. It was Arabella Figg.
"Albus," she called, sounding frantic.
The urgency in her voice snapped the headmaster out of his inertia. He looked at the flames, worried by her troubled state. "Arabella, all is well I hope?"
"Albus, hurry over. Something horrible has happened. The Dursley house is up in flames," Mrs Figg said, frantically.
Albus for a moment wondered if she was just being idiomatic, but her evident apprehension put paid to that assumption. He looked at the various enchanted devices disguised as knickknacks around his office. The one monitoring the wards on the Dursley home was still active as was the one tracking young Harry. This could only mean that young Harry was alive and the wards were alright. But that didn't cancel the possibility of the house being destroyed.
Mr. Potter and his family might be in trouble, he thought and got up immediately. "Wait for my arrival, Arabella. I will be with you soon."
She nodded and cut off the floo call. Albus immediately placed a handful of lemon drops in his front pocket. He had a feeling that he may need their calming effect where he is going. He picked up his wand and called for his loyal Phoenix.
Fawkes raised his head from where he laid on his perch. He flashed and reappeared on Albus' shoulder then he flashed out of Hogwarts, taking the Headmaster with him.
Dumbledore arrived on Mrs. Figg's porch with a bright flash and regretted his unnatural mode of transportation immediately. Privet Drive was teeming with people. Fortunately none of them saw him arrive but some turned around after his arrival to see what had caused the bright flash.
One of them was a dark skinned man with an eye-patch. Albus had no trouble recognizing him. His job as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW demanded that he deal with Muggle organizations like SHIELD.
The man made a beeline towards him. Albus steeled himself and waited for the curious muggles to avert their eyes from him then he quickly whipped out his wand and glamoured Fawkes to look like a beautiful pet parrot.
He saw the eyes of the director of SHIELD dart to the Phoenix briefly as he came to stand before him. "Albus," he greeted.
"Nicholas." Albus returned the greeting while taking the time to finally see what had everyone gathering around. He saw a barely recognizable blackened and destroyed number four slowly being quenched by firemen. The entire neighborhood were there to find out what had happened. "Do you by any chance know what happened here?"
"That's a question I'd like an answer to too," Fury admitted. "The investigators here thought it was simply a gas leak until they found a grenade casing in the living room. A nosy neighbor at number six claim to have seen an albino man entering an SUV with a little boy just before the explosion. That's all we have."
"This is not good," Albus said, still looking at the house. Subtly he waved his wand and got a reading that the wards were still there but rapidly fading. That could only mean that the person they had been tethered to was dead as such wards do fail twenty four hours after the passing of the soul of the person they were connected to. "Such a sad way to go."
Fury gave him a strange look which he ignored. "I assume you just scanned the house," he said and received a nod from the headmaster. "Well, Vernon and Petunia Dursley are indeed dead along with their son. Tell me, though, Albus, why exactly are you here? I never thought the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confed will be interested in the death of two muggles."
Albus didn't show any sign that he'd detected the bitterness in the Director's voice as he said the word 'muggle'. Instead he was debating on whether he should tell the man about the Dursleys' connection to the wizarding world. He soon decided that there was no harm in telling, Fury was resourceful enough to find out anyway. Also if there was a chance of the director finding Harry before him -he didn't think it likely, but if there was a slight chance indeed- he didn't want the man not involving him in the rescue just because he chose to be uncooperative now.
"The boy that was abducted is my ward," he stated.
Fury gave him a weird look. He gestured at the house. "Then what was he doing here?"
"Ah, the explanation for that is something I fear you won't be able to understand," Dumbledore said attempting to sidetrack the question. "Not without some high magical education at least."
"If you say so," Fury said. A mini bus pulled over on the drive way of the now ruined Dursley house and a man Albus was used to seeing by Fury's side stepped out followed by another man who was wearing thick rimmed glasses. "Our forensic artist is here."
Albus blinked. "Sorry, I'm not familiar with that term."
"An artists who sketch a representation of a person of interest based on the descriptional composites given by an eyewitness," Fury explained. "Normally we'd just use a computer for that but the nearest one with an AI for that sort of job is in London so I felt hurrying up and getting a forensic artist from the nearest police station would hasten up this investigation."
"Hmmm. So if I understand that well, this man will be able to use the description given by the woman who saw young Harry being abducted to create an image of Harry and his abductor?" Fury nodded as both men saw them and started approaching. "Wonderful. Such ingenious talent."
Fury gave him another weird look which Albus felt he could be forgiven for, after all the Director have never spent enough time in his presence to get used to his charming character.
It was at that moment Mrs Figg stepped out of the house making Albus frown though he quickly hid it. He didn't want Fury to know about the squib woman as he could use her as an in into the Order of the Phoenix. She was a Squib and lacked magic to protect herself from the director's clandestine muggle ways.
Fury's eyes were on her once she stepped out and before Dumbledore could speak and start a conversation that would make the Director think that they were only just old acquaintances, Mrs Figg started to speak. "Albus, you are here finally."
It took the headmaster a moment to notice that she was crying. With his mind worrying about she now being exposed to Fury he wouldn't have even noticed her tears if his peripheral vision hadn't caught the sight of something white in her hands. And when he looked he saw her dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "Arabella?" He called, probingly.
"Oh, Albus. You should have see them when they carried them away. The Dursleys were burnt to char." She cried as she spoke and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder in comfort. "You must find them, Albus. You must find who did this and find poor Harry too. They say he wasn't there. Thankfully, he wasn't in the fire but goodness knows what the boy is going through now."
"I will find him, I promise. We will get young Harry back," Albus assured, confident in his words.
Nicholas' friends reached them in no time and the man Albus was used to seeing beside the Director, Coulson or so if he recalled correctly, gave both his boss and the Headmaster polite nods. "Director, this is Adam Jones. He's the best Composite Artist I could find in the nearest precincts," Mr. Coulson introduced.
"Very well, Phil. Take him to number six and have him work with the old lady to get us a sketch of both Potter and the man who took him," the man ordered.
Phil Coulson nodded and walked away. Albus looked at the Director in surprise, he hadn't known the many knew much about Harry to know his surname. Fury caught him staring and to Albus' surprised quickly deduced why.
"We interrogated the neighbors and they had a lot to say about the family," he said, simply. "Frankly, if it weren't for an eyewitness seeing the boy being abducted by an albino with armed guards and the grenade remains I'd have thought Potter blew up the house himself and ran away. And he'd have enough reason to do just that."
"Nicholas." Albus gasped. He couldn't believe this man would assume such vile thing about young Harry.
"The boy was being abused, Albus," Fury stated, brusquely. "Some of the neighbours saw it for what it was while others believed the lies his guardians fed them about the boy being a miscreant who love getting in trouble and coming home injured. According to some of them, he only wore clothes three sizes larger than him, which they assume to be his cousin's castoffs. He was seen many times to be doing the chores around the house, everyday."
Albus blinked in surprise and looked to Mrs Figg. She nodded confirming the Director's words. "I suspected the same too. I did try to hint at it, Albus, but you always ignored me and said they were doing good work raising him to be able to clean up after himself and to not be a squanderer in future."
The other things the Director mentioned wouldn't have been so bad if not of the hint at physical abuse. Implying that he didn't come home injured after all could only mean one thing.
He closed his eyes and felt his heart ache. I have failed you, Lily, James. And I must do everything I can to find your son and bring him back under my protection.
He opened his eyes and removed his hand from the still grieving Mrs Figg. He didn't know why the woman was crying for the Dursleys when she had just said that they were not really good people. Maybe she had a pure heart. It was good trait, one Albus like seeing in people. Forgiveness and second chances should always be made available for the redeemable, and if they were to die without abstaining from their wicked ways then all is to be forgiven. One shouldn't hold a grudge against the dead.
"Nicholas, I best be going. I will start looking for Harry as soon as possible. If you do find something on your end, I hope you try and inform me," he told the Director. There was a high chance that the director could find out something about the person who'd kidnapped Harry as Albus knew that it was most likely a muggle because wizards don't drive SUVs, whatever those are, or use grenades.
"I will if you are willing to reciprocate," Fury said.
Albus pressed his lips together and considered the pros and cons of agreeing to that. He could find Harry but may have to apprehend a lot of muggles to get to the boy as it was almost certain that muggles had been the ones to take him away. There was no way he could handle giving out justice to muggles so he'd need Fury anyway. There was also a five percent chance that Fury would be able to find Harry before him and if he don't accept this agreement now he might lose Harry to SHIELD and the boy's Hogwarts letter might be addressed as: Agent Harry Potter, Lodge at the Hellicarrier.
He shuddered thinking about that and gave Fury a nod. "We should indeed work together to get Mr. Potter back as soon as possible." Done making the agreement, he turned back to Mrs. Figg. "Take care, my dear. I'd suggest you pay Molly a visit. Her wonderful tea might help you through your grief. Now, Director I must be going. I have a lot to do if we are to find Mr. Potter before the enemies can use him for their nefarious purpose."
With that, Albus Dumbledore, believed Slayer of the Dark Lord Grindelwald, flamed back to Hogwarts with the assistance of his pet Phoenix.
~Break~
Harry have never been abroad in his life and he might have been exited after they left Diagon Alley and Mr. Natex informed him that they were leaving the country, but that excitement had faded away when they got to a private airfield in Liverpool and met a militaristic jet waiting for them.
Harry had seriously wanted to call it quits there and wish Mr. Natex all the best in his future endeavors but he had lost the courage to when he'd seen that the jet had been carrying no less than eight armed mercenaries.
Now he's in strange facility in Canada and have not seen hide nor hair of the Mr. Natex since the man brought him here six days ago.
During the flight here Mr. Natex had informed him of a lot of things that still made his head spin even now as he remembered them. Apparently, his mother, Lily Potter nee Evans, had been a witch who attended a magical school called Hogwarts. She studied in Hogwarts for seven years and was so smart she caught the attention of a magical research and espionage organization called the Department of Mysteries. The the staff of the Department of mysteries are called Unspeakables and owe their allegiance to the International Confederation of Wizards, which by Mister Natex's explanation are the magical equivalent of the United Nations.
Harry's mother, Lily, went on a sabbatical after graduating from Hogwarts. During this sabbatical she visited a lot of insular magical tribes and managed to convince some of them to teach her their ways with her charming personality. She learnt the different methods of magic applied by other nations outside of the UK and in a single year she learnt things that surpassed all her previous seven years of magical education. It was during this sabbatical she met Mr. Natex.
She had mistaken him for a vampire. This Mr. Natex told Harry was not surprising as he, muggle or not, still retained some traits from his relatives the vampires of Clan Essex.
He and Lily Evans clicked after he recognized her as a witch and decided to pick her brain for anything she might know about alchemy as he was curious about incorporating it into genetic engineering. They had struck a friendship and Mr. Natex later found out that Harry's mother was disappointed that she couldn't continue her normal education as she wouldn't have the time since she was planning to accept the job offer from the Unspeakables.
Mr. Natex had helpfully given her another option. He asked her to be his apprentice and report in to work anytime she want. He'd promised her science the likes of which she'd never see in any classroom. He managed to convince her and she'd agreed.
Mr. Natex had told Harry that then he had been working with a cell of a terrorist organization called HYDRA and him and Lily had used HYDRAs resources to further their knowledge in the scientific arts. He told Harry of how his mother had made good use of one of the numerous time turners hoarded by the Unspeakables so that she'd have enough time to further her knowledge in science with Mr. Natex and also further her knowledge in magic with the Unspeakables.
Harry had been told tales of his mother's intelligence and awesomeness and though he had been excited to hear them, he couldn't stop wondering why his mother had worked for terrorists.
Could his mother have been a bad person? Did that even matter? She was still his mother anyway, wasn't she? And she'd love him regardless of where she stood in the moral spectrum, after all the Dursleys were bad people and still they showed their son with love.
His mother could be Hitler for all he cares and he'd still love her and pray she wouldn't be disappointed with having a weakling for a son.
Just as he thought about that, he heard the bolts of the heavy iron door of the room he had been kept in being opened. The door was forcefully opened and a soldier stepped in holding a short barrelled rifle. Harry instinctively scooted back on the bed he was on.
"You," the soldier said, beckoning at Harry, "come with me."
"Wh...where are you taking me to?" Harry asked in fear. The glare the armed officer gave him was worse than anything he'd ever received from anyone, Vernon and his obese sister included. It was a look that promised pain if Harry didn't do as he was being ordered.
He got up immediately and walked over to the man, head bowed. The soldier led him out of the room and down a passageway with iron walls, lit only by a few LED light panels on the ceiling.
He was taken to an underground room via an elevator and there he was sadly reunited with Mr. Natex who was standing beside a pale skinned baldy. The other man wasn't as pale skinned as Mr. Natex though or even Harry who'd spent most of his life inside a cupboard.
"You can go now, soldier." The bald man dismissed Harry's guide. Harry was glad to see the soldier leave yet his mind told him that the men he stood before were far more dangerous than that soldier could ever be.
"Harry, let me introduce you to Mr. Walter Lestrange. He is the Director of a very important department here in Canada and he has invested so much in your greatness," Mr. Natex introduced. "And I must add, he is an old acquaintance of your dear mother."
The bald man laughed as if what Natex said last was so very funny. "Oh, Sinister, you description leaves a lot to be interpreted about my familiarity with the late Lady Potter," he said.
Harry was confused. What did the man mean by that? And why had he called Mr. Natex Sinister? Was it a type of code name?
"It's good to see you, Mr. Potter," Mr. Lestrange said, eyeing Harry like one would eye a nice car they were about to purchase. "I must say, asides from the eyes you didn't inherit much from your mother."
"Let's hope the traits he inherited from James Potter don't go beyond the superficial," Mr. Natex said, amusedly.
This was Harry's second time hearing his parents name. The first had been when Mr. Natex had told him of his mother during their journey to this place. Aunt Petunia had always address his mother as just that, 'your mother', and the less said about the names Vernon had called his father the better.
"You both knew my parents?" he asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice.
"Of course I do. Your mother mostly," Mr. Natex said. "And I will be telling you more about her today."
"We didn't come here to talk about the mudblood, Essex. My department is paying millions for this project and here you are cuddling the boy," Lestrange said in a tone so malicious that Harry quickly took a step back.
Natex sighed and glared at the man. "Don't undo all the work I've been putting in place. Conditioning is the keyword here and loyalty through familial connections is better than loyalty through fear. By the way, you might call Lily a mudblood but the girl could still do magic which is what vexes you. Isn't it. You were always envious of my apprentice, weren't you. See it this way, after the success of Project Titan and all the wealth the subject is going to bring us, we can finally undertake the project of making squibs capable of magic."
Lestrange huffed and started walking away. "Just get the job done, Essex. I want him ready in a week."
Harry watched as the man left, trying to dissect the hidden meanings behind their words. He understood from the short conversation that his mother had been an apprentice to Mr. Natex. But aside from that he didn't understand the rest of what they had said. They talked about a project and a subject which he had no clue about.
Just why do this people need me? He wondered.
Mr. Natex cleared his throat to gain Harry's attention and beckoned him to follow him. They didn't head in the direction of the door rather to a stair case that led down.
"I believe from that conversion you must have guessed by now that Nile Hasse Natex is not my only name," Mr. Natex said as they began going down the stairs.
"Maybe," Harry said, unsure.
"Your mother introduced me to anagrams. According to her it was a common tradition for purebloods who conduct nocturnal illicit activities to have pseudo identities. Her anagrammatic name was Janie Vallinescy, a Russian anagram for her Lily Janice Potter identity. When I wrote my name down and rearranged it, it took hours to come up with two appealing options: Lanse Tex Saheni and Nile Hasse Natex. The first one would have my pseudo identify as Italian and the second as German. I went with the second simply because I'm more familiar with the German society and quite fluent with their language. Sadly there were no more satisfying options. Nathaniel Essex is not a name with much rhythmic letters."
"Do I have an anagrammatic name?" Harry asked.
"If you mother formed one for you she never told me of it," Mr. Natex said. "You can always create yours whenever you want."
"Why did Mr. Lestrange call you Sinister?" Harry asked curiously and wished he hadn't when Mr. Natex gave him a smile so cruel he felt his back develop goose flesh.
"That, Harry is something you should pray you never discover. Many who found out the reason why I'm sometimes called that... why, many who did are my enemies today."
Harry didn't want to be Mr. Natex's enemy. He didn't want to have a grenade lobbed at his head or to find himself on a surgical table at the man's mercies. He decided to get the man's attention away from that subject. Maybe he'd then forget that Harry had asked him about the name. "So what should I call you?"
"That's a decision I will leave to you," Mr. Natex said as they reached the landing of the stairs.
Harry decided to stick with Nile Hasse Natex. Mr. Natex just mentioned that he have enemies and they might know his others name. Harry didn't want to be caught saying the name and then gaining the attention of the geneticist's enemies.
Mr. Natex led him to a door directly opposite the stairs and opened it. The room beyond was a lab with little lighting. The only source of ventilation were two air filters that covered square openings leading to air duct passages.
The room held do many machines and appliances and at the end there was an adjacent room walled off with thick bullet proof glass.
There was someone waiting for them already in the room, a haughty looking woman who had an impassive stance as she stood operating on one of the computers.
"Doctor MacTaggert," Mr. Natex called, "thank you once again for agreeing to oversee Project Titan with me. You will be greatly rewarded by Director Lestrange and Department K."
The woman didn't even turn to look at them. "Money is not the reward I need, Essex."
"I know. You need test subjects and more chances to participate in projects like this," he said, knowingly. "I will speak to the director and see if he has anything for you. Failing that, there's always Weapon Plus."
The woman snorted. "Right. Until the next Weapon Plus project is busted by SHIELD or those X-Men and then we'll be forced to start all over again. No, thank you, but I'm done with Weapon Plus."
Natex shrugged. "If you say so, Moira."
Finally the woman turned and fixed her eyes on Harry. "Is the boy aware of his part?"
"That's exactly why I brought him here," Mr. Natex said. He placed a hand on Harry's right shoulder and guided him to a chair. "Sit, Harry. I have something important to tell you concerning your mother."
Harry sat down quickly and faced Mr. Natex eagerly. "What is it, Mr. Natex?" He asked. He loved hearing about his mother, he wanted to hear more about her. Learning about her seem to deepen his connection to her. He starved for more stories about her achievements and personality. Unfortunately and unknown to Harry, Sinister had long since recognized it and had been successfully making use of it as a mind control weapon that in the long term may prove more effective than even the Imperious Curse.
"Your mother, Harry, was murdered," Mr. Natex said, bending his head solemnly. "She was killed by a madman with enough power to bring this world to its knees. He is one of the three most power mages of the last two centuries. His power is almost limitless and so great that many feared to say his name. But never your mother, she called Lord Voldemort by his name and I guess he must have tire of her defiance so Halloween 1981 he murdered your father and proceeded to end your mother also. The magicals claim that Voldemort is dead but they have no body to show as prove. What I believe is that your mother may have injured him so greatly that he is still recovering from the wounds she must have dealt him. Trust me when I say this that your mother was very powerful magically and she loved you so much that she'd do anything, even fight to the death, to protect you. Sadly, the foolish magicals are lauding you for your dear mother's accomplishment."
That made Harry so angry. He balled his hands into white-knuckled fists. "Why?" He fumed. "Why are they trying to rid her of the credit she deserve, the credit she died for?"
"They don't know better, Harry. They simply don't. It's up to you now to right the wrongs done to our dear Lily," Mr. Natex said. He brought out something from his pocket and dropped it on Harry's lab. It was a picture, a picture of a gorgeous redhead who looked to be in her early twenties. She had eyes as green as his and as he watched she looked up and waved at him. He eyes widened and he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the picture and look up at Mr. Natex quizzically.
"It's a magical picture," the man said, answering his unasked question. "Oh, how I stare at it everytime, regretting my powerlessness at avenging her. Your mother needs to be avenged, Harry. I may not be able to do that, but you... you Harry can help me."
"How?" Harry asked, enthusiastically.
"It involves an experiment your mother devised and shared with me just before she died," the man informed.
Harry shifted uncomfortably hearing the word 'experiment'. He had been scared that Mr. Natex would use him for such a thing since he found out that the man was a geneticist. He was scared that Mr. Natex would want to dissect him to understand why he was so freakish, to study his freakishness and understand it. His fear was coming to pass now and he was about to reject the request when he remembered who he was doing it for.
It was for his mother, she who had fought to the death to protect him. She deserved more from him than this. His hesitation slowly subsided as he thought about everything Mr. Natex had told him about his mother. He looked down at the picture again and took in her soft features and youth. Killed before her time. His mother had been taken away from him.
There will be vengeance. His visage became cold and he stood up and gave Mr. Natex a stiff but sure nod. "I will do it."
